


In The Fantasy

by Threatie



Category: Gmod Murder, Grand Theft Auto V, Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: F/M, Gun Violence, Handcuffs, M/M, Rape, Restraints, Threats, both implied and overt, fantasy scenario, imagined scenario, implication of further noncon, noncon, physical violence, that scenario includes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:54:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25722430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Threatie/pseuds/Threatie
Summary: After the events of "How Jeremy Met The Fakes" (https://archiveofourown.org/works/21125783) Jeremy fantasizes about things going a different way.“I’m not here to rough you up,” the Kingpin had said. “I’m here to see if you’re looking for a job.”What if he hadn’t, though? What if that second meeting had gone very differently?
Relationships: Jack Pattillo/Geoff Ramsey, Jeremy Dooley/Geoff Ramsey
Comments: 1
Kudos: 38





	In The Fantasy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wrespawn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrespawn/gifts).
  * Inspired by [How Jeremy Met the Fakes (Old Version)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21125783) by [Wrespawn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrespawn/pseuds/Wrespawn). 



In the fantasy, Jeremy opened the door with hair still wet from the shower.

“Hi,” said the man behind the neon hockey mask, a split second before a pistol slammed into Jeremy’s face.

In the fantasy, Jeremy stumbled backwards into his apartment, both hands flying up to cup his nose. Fuck, it hurt; a bright spot of pain that obscured the center of his vision. He couldn’t tell if it was broken or not. It was certainly bleeding. 

The Kingpin took advantage, striding in after him and slamming the door as he went. 

“Think I wouldn’t know you’d been talking to the cops, punk?” Hands impacted his chest, shoving. Jeremy fell, barely able to turn as he did so and take the impact on his shoulder, keeping himself unconcussed.

Maybe it would’ve been a mercy if he hadn’t.

The Kingpin knelt over him, roughly pulling Jeremy’s hands away from his nose, one after the other. Forcing them behind his back, into the cold grip of handcuffs.

“No!” The Jeremy in the fantasy shouted. “I-I wouldn’t, i-it wasn’t me-”

“Shut up.” The cold circle of a barrel pressed against his skull. “I’m not above shooting you, punk. Wouldn’t start with the head, though.” The gun trailed downward, caressing the curve of Jeremy’s neck. Nudging boldly into the meat of his shoulder. “You’d get a couple more chances first.”

“Please-” In the fantasy, Jeremy’s heart was pounding in his ears. “D-don’t-”

The words died in his throat as a cold chuckle reached his ears, burning into him through the haze of adrenaline. The Kingpin fisted a hand in Jeremy’s hair, forcing his head upward. 

“Well shit, Mr. Huge Fan. Maybe I _do_ believe you.”

Jeremy swallowed, hard, throat convulsing painfully with the harsh angle. Through his open bedroom door, he could clearly see the Vagabond poster on his wall.

“Oh, t-thank you- S-so you’re not gonna-”

“Nah.” The Kingpin released his hair, the gun giving one more authoritative shove before it lifted away as well. Dexterous hands found his waistband, fingers slipping under as though slowly tearing into wrapping paper. “This is still personal. Just, now it’s ‘cause you’re a Vagabond fanboy.”

In the fantasy, Jeremy whimpered. The Kingpin was teasing his pants down slowly, but the motions were anything but gentle. “I-it’s nothing personal, I j-just couldn’t find one w-with you, s-sir-”

“Oh, good, then!” The Kingpin’s voice was suddenly cheery and bright. “Then you won’t mind if I do this!” Rough hands gripped his ass, possessive and spreading. Two tattooed thumbs a scant distance from his hole, tugging with enough force to expose him.

In the fantasy, the Kingpin leaned forward, blanketing his body over Jeremy’s back. Hot, wet breath gusted against his ear. 

“You want my autograph, fanboy? I’ll give it to you deep enough it’ll _never_ wash off.”

In the fantasy, Jeremy whined, pressing his face down into the carpet as though he could hide there. Fuck, he needed to vacuum. Should’ve vacuumed. Hadn’t realized he’d be taking shelter in the worn carpet fibers as the Kingpin’s thumbs nudged into him. Dry pressure, one on each side. Pulling him apart. Stinging. Fuck, he needed-

“W-wait, I-” In the fantasy, Jeremy gasped as those hands froze on his ass, suddenly gripping painfully tight. “I-I have lube, i-it’s in the third drawer in my- my nightstand-”

“Oh, really?” The Kingpin sounded delighted. Jeremy couldn’t see his smile, but he imagined it was sharp enough to slice right through him. “Lube in your nightstand and the Vagabond on your wall...I don’t suppose you have anything in that room that’d make you more comfortable while I open you up? Maybe...something I could use instead?”

In the fantasy, Jeremy shivered. He wished he’d been more daring; had explored further when he’d had the chance. Had taken that leap before he’d been forced into it, before he had no choice but to say, “N-no, I- I a-always just used my...my f-fingers…”

“Oh, you’re gonna feel _right_ at home, then.” The hands were mercifully gone from his ass, his hole clenching as though he could protect himself. Then the gun was back, pressing once against the side of his head as though for emphasis.

“I’m going to go get that lube you offered me. And you are going to stay _right_ here.”

Jeremy nodded frantically, the motion grinding his forehead into the carpet. It burned, made him think of all the places he’d be bruised and aching when the Kingpin finally- _if_ the Kingpin finally let him go. 

He watched as the Kingpin stepped through the doorway, taking a moment to admire the Vagabond poster before kneeling to rifle through Jeremy’s nightstand. Jeremy couldn’t help the way- hated the way his gaze was drawn down to the Kingpin’s ass. He swallowed, pressed his face back down again. Didn’t want to look too closely at how he was feeling about the prospect of this very attractive man fucking him, handcuffed, on his own floor.

“There we go.” Jeremy was startled out of his thoughts by a hand on his forehead, lifting and turning him as a pillow was slid under his cheek. Jeremy recognized the soft, faded pillowcase as the pillow from his bed. He breathed deeply, pulling in the scent of laundry detergent and his own body at rest.

“T-thank you-”

“Hey.” In the fantasy, the Kingpin slapped his ass. “Don’t go getting all sentimental on me.”

Then that touch was back against his hole, just one finger this time, cold and slick with lube. It sunk into him without hesitation, a smooth, easy glide that had Jeremy whimpering into his pillow.

“Hey, don’t worry.” The Kingpin’s voice was light and easy. “I know what I’m doing.” He slid his finger back out again, then pushed in two, spreading them casually as though he did this every day. He leaned forward, hard plastic mask brushing against Jeremy’s cheek as he whispered his next words.

“I practice on the Vagabond.”

“G-god-”

“Oh, you _like_ that!” Those two fingers pumped inside him, twisting and prodding until Jeremy saw stars. “You like thinking about the big scary Vagabond just letting me take him right there in the middle of a heist? Maybe bend him over the loot, tell him his cut is whatever he manages to jizz on?”

“Fuck-!” Jeremy couldn’t help the way he clenched at the words, squeezing tight around those two fingers. 

“Yeah, why don’t you just keep thinking about that?” The slick fingers withdrew, leaving him wet and tingling. Panting and vulnerable as he heard the sound of a zipper behind him. “C’mere, up on your knees, and just...picture a big pile of money…”

In the fantasy, Jeremy’s arms were still bound behind him. Up on his knees, most of his weight was supported by his forehead and neck. He found himself saying another silent thank-you for the pillow. A kind of numb detachment as the Kingpin pressed against him. Surely this wasn’t...this wasn’t _really_ happening?

Then he jolted, lurching involuntarily forward at the first forceful _push_. 

“None of that, now.” The Kingpin wrapped an arm around his waist, keeping Jeremy skewered on the few inches of cock he’d managed to take. Another moment and those inches doubled, the Kingpin forcing his way inside. “No time for that when we’re heisting, fanboy. Gotta make it _fast_.”

Jeremy panted against the pillow, eyes screwed shut as though he could push the Kingpin away with sheer force of will. True to his word, the Kingpin was fucking him fast. With his eyes closed, Jeremy could almost hear the police sirens. Could almost smell the cold, filthy, antiseptic-and-money scent of the inside of a bank vault. Fuck, was it only the Vagabond the Kingpin fucked like this, or just whichever crew member happened to be closest? Jeremy’s heart lurched, his cock twitching where it was still trapped in his pants as an image sprang to mind; Golden Boy pinned and helpless on a huge pile of money, his own golden pistol pressed to his head. In Jeremy’s mind, his golden mask was askew. In Jeremy’s mind, he was smiling.

“Oh, fuck yeah-” The Kingpin held him tighter, pounding into Jeremy like he wanted to fuck _through_ him. “Keep squeezing me like that- juuust like that... _fuck_ yeah.”

In the fantasy, Jeremy could feel every hot, eager twitch of that cock as it flooded him. The Kingpin didn’t let up, fucking into Jeremy until he was spent, and Jeremy could feel wetness dripping down his thighs.

The Kingpin rolled him, then, pushing Jeremy down on his back and onto his cuffed wrists. For a moment he tensed, wondering how he was going to withstand the sharp, hard metal digging into him- and then he was being lifted, his shoulders and torso pulled across the Kingpin’s lap. 

“Damn, fanboy.” The Kingpin’s hand was down his pants, slick fingers wrapping around Jeremy right where he was _aching_ for it. “You’re pretty fun. I ought to send my crew over here for a little bonding exercise.”

In the fantasy, Jeremy whined, turning his head so he wouldn’t have to see those eyes burning into him behind the mask. Undeterred, the Kingpin gripped a handful of Jeremy’s hair, directing his gaze upwards.

“Golden Boy and Mogar could pass you back and forth all afternoon. Wheels and the Vagabond, though…” The Kingpin laughed, his grip momentarily tightening. “Those two might wanna throw you in the trunk of a car, take you out for a little spin first.” The Kingpin looked up, as though recalling a fond memory, and Jeremy felt the removal of that harsh gaze as an almost physical relief. “Man, there’s no foreplay quite like bouncing off the walls with the spare tire while the driver does donuts out in the desert. Being dragged out under the hot sun, someone forcing your mouth open and sliding themselves inside...reminds me why I love that woman.”

The thought was dizzying. The idea that someone else could take the Kingpin like that- that maybe _he_ was sometimes the one bent over the pile of money- had Jeremy twisting and shuddering in his grip. Fuck, he could imagine Wheels behind him, auburn hair floating around her mask as she pulled the Kingpin back against her, made him listen as she whispered in his ear.

_“How ‘bout you rev my motor, honey? You make it real good, I might not leave you behind.”_

“ _Oh_ fuck-” In the fantasy, Jeremy’s hips pushed up hard into the Kingpin’s grip, and he came in long spurts that streaked the front of the man’s jacket. “S-shit, I- I-I’m s-”

“Nah.” The Kingpin lifted him, cradling Jeremy against him in something too tight to be a hug. “No harm done. You’re gonna clean it up...aren’t you?”

Wordlessly, shakily, Jeremy nodded. The Kingpin was cupping his head, pressing Jeremy’s face into his jacket almost nose-to-nose with the splatters he’d left there. Hesitantly, feeling that masked gaze on him again, Jeremy began to lick the jacket clean.

“Oh, _good_ boy.” In the fantasy, the praise made Jeremy blush, closing his eyes against the words as he continued to work. “If I’d know you were gonna be _this_ much fun, fanboy, I’d’ve thrown you in the back with the loot.”

Jeremy wasn’t ready for it when the Kingpin dropped him, flipping him unceremoniously off of his lap and tugging harshly at his cuffed hands.

“This has been fun.” One cuff opened, and Jeremy gasped in relief as his arm was allowed to fall to his side. “Let’s do it again sometime.” The other cuff, and then the Kingpin was striding away from him, leaving Jeremy where he lay, sore and messy on his own apartment floor.

The door clicked shut. In the fantasy, Jeremy blew out a long, slow breath. He rolled onto his back, rubbing his sore wrists.

He wondered if the Kingpin would be back.

And who he might bring with him.


End file.
